


A Clean Sweep

by MTK4FUN



Category: The Hunger Games Trilogy
Genre: A canon one-shot, F/M, Housecleaning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 20:36:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7546703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MTK4FUN/pseuds/MTK4FUN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Catching Fire, page 132 - The only bright spot is, I get Haymitch to hire Hazelle as a housekeeper, resulting in some extra money for her and greatly increasing Haymitch's standard of living.</p><p>Hazelle Hawthorne's eyes are opened when she cleans Haymitch Abernathy's house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Clean Sweep

The mines have finally re-opened and Gale is strong enough to go back to work. Katniss stops by to visit while the kids are at school. Over a mug of herb tea, I tell her about the wage cut for the miners and that Rory’s signed up for tesserae.

“Have any of your laundry clients contacted you?” she asks.

“No. I can’t tell if people are too afraid to do business with me because of Gale’s whipping, or whether they’re all broke, too, because of the mine closure.”

I’m embarrassed to be telling my troubles to a sixteen-year-old girl. I don’t want her to think I’m looking for charity – I do have my pride -- but perhaps she’s heard of a possible job. 

She nods sympathetically. “It’s too bad we can’t go hunting.”

“Stay out of the woods.” My voice is close to hysterical as I picture the reddened scars on my son’s back.

Katniss reaches across the table to lay a hand on my arm. “I will Hazelle. And don’t worry, I’m sure something will turn up. I’ll keep my ears open for you.” 

A couple of days later she returns with a pot of stew – “my Mom made too much” -- and a job offer.

“Haymitch is looking for someone to clean his house.” 

She names a salary that is so ridiculously high that I shake my head at her. “That’s too much.”

“Wait until you see his house first. It’s in bad shape. You’ll have your work cut out for you.”

“Oh, I’m used to cleaning up messes. I have four kids, remember.”

She gives me a smile and says she’ll meet me in front of his house at nine the next morning. 

“Okay.” But I wonder why she needs to be there. I hope Haymitch has already agreed to hire me and that Katniss doesn’t plan to spring the idea on him while I’m standing there.

Still, I’m excited about getting work so I bring out the last of the strawberry preserves I’ve been saving since last summer to spread on our bread for dinner. 

“What’s the special occasion?” Gale asks.

His face darkens when I tell him about cleaning Haymitch’s house, especially when I mention the salary. “Don’t take it. It’s charity.”

“Maybe it is, and maybe it isn’t, but I’ll be the judge of that.”

Gale may be the sole support of this family right now, but I am his mother. I will not be taking orders from him. Still it does sound like a lot of money just to straighten up a house.

As soon as the kids leave for school the next morning I gather some supplies, a bucket filled with clean rags, and a mop, broom and dustpan and set off for Victor’s Village. 

Like she said, Katniss is waiting in front of Haymitch’s house when I walk through the gate. She hurries over to me and takes the mop and broom from my hands.

“I wasn’t sure what Haymitch had,” I explain.

“Oh, he’s got everything he needs to keep his house tidy, including a vacuum, a washing machine, and even a clothes dryer. The problem is that he doesn’t use them.”

Well those tools will certainly make my work easier, although it irritates me that this man has all these conveniences and he still needs someone to clean for him.

When we arrive at the bottom of the stairs to Haymitch’s front porch, Peeta Mellark walks out the front door. 

He makes his way down the steps and welcomes me with a smile. “You’re a brave woman to take on Haymitch’s house.” 

He turns to Katniss. “Watch out, he’s grumpy this morning.”

“When isn’t he?” she asks. They both chuckle and exchange a knowing look. 

Katniss and I climb the stairs. She pounds on the door a couple of times and then turns the handle to open it.

A foul stench greets us. It’s a combination of liquor, vomit, boiled cabbage and burned meat, unwashed clothes, and I suspect, mouse droppings.

It’s all I can do not to turn around and go. 

We need the money, we need the money, we need the money.

Katniss leans the mop and broom against the wall. I set down the bucket and we walk through the entry, and into the living room.

“Haymitch, I’m here with Hazelle.”

The District Twelve mentor lies in wrinkled clothing on the couch, surrounded by filth. 

The surface of every tabletop is covered, littered with dirty plates and glasses, books lying facedown with their spines bent out of shape, and bottle corks of all sizes and shapes. Clothing, empty liquor bottles, and even more books are spread across the wooden floor. 

“Yeah, what do you want?” He sounds more than grumpy; he’s in a bad mood.

This doesn’t bode well. “Hazelle is here to begin cleaning your house, remember?” Katniss’ voice is just as sharp as his in return, causing me to stare at her in surprise. I’ve never known Katniss to be rude. 

He groans and lifts his head to study me. He’s a couple of years younger than me but he looks at least ten years older. 

“All right, come on in then. But don’t make too much noise. I’m going to take a nap.” He lays his head down and closes his eyes.

“He stays awake at night and sleeps during the day,” she explains.

“Can you show me more of the house, Katniss?” 

She leads me past Haymitch and into the dining area. Gingerly I try to avoid stepping on the detritus that lies on the floor.

The dining room is as disgusting as the living room, but the kitchen is the worst of the three. The putrid odor brings tears to my eyes.

Clearly Haymitch can’t be eating properly. The four burners on top of the stove are thick with grease, and every burner but one has a pan with rotted food sitting atop it. I step closer to peer inside a pot. 

Something moves, and I realize its some kind of larvae that’s hatched.

The sink is piled high with more dirty dishes, soaking in greasy, smelly water.

“Can there even be any plates left in the cupboards?” I pull a cabinet door open and the cupboard is empty.

There is a special room next to the kitchen for laundry. Two white, box-like machines sit in it. 

“That’s the washer and dryer,” Katniss says. Above them is a shelf with containers of washing soap. 

I step on top of clothing that is spread across the floor like a patchwork carpet to inspect them. Opening the lid of one machine, a mildewed odor fills the air. I slam it down quickly.

We make our way back to the living room. Haymitch snores loudly as Katniss leads me past him. 

“That’s funny,” she says as we enter what appears to be an office. “It looks like Haymitch might use the study for his bedroom.” 

A large wooden desk, covered with clothes, is set in the center of the room. The telephone on it is half-covered by a shirt. 

An ornate wooden chair sits behind the desk and an upholstered chair sits in front of it. Along one wall is a long sofa. A couple of blankets and a white feather pillow that has turned yellow from sweat are piled on top of it.

In one corner of the room, near to the closet door, is a large spider’s web, which indicates to me that this room hasn’t been cleaned in a long while.

I run my index finger along the edge of the desktop. It’s covered with a thick layer of dust.

The generous amount Haymitch offered to pay me wasn’t charity by any means. I will earn every penny of it. I may, in fact, be cleaning until Posy has graduated school.

Leaving the office behind, we take a peek into a small bathroom that contains a sink, toilet, and small shower. Surprisingly it’s not as bad as I feared, but it’s still needs a lot of work.

“That’s it for the downstairs,” Katniss says. “I’ll take you upstairs now.”

I’d forgotten that this is a two-story house, and my heart begins to race at the thought of what lies ahead .

We need the money, we need the money, we need the money.

“All right, lead the way.”

As we climb the stairs, Katniss tells me that she’s never been up here before. But when we reach the second floor and look around we are both amazed because it looks as untouched as the day when Haymitch moved in. 

It’s dusty, though. Katniss and I both have coughing fits. 

There are four bedrooms and two bathrooms, with the largest room having its own attached bath.

The last room we enter is clearly decorated for a woman. It has flowered wallpaper, a lacy coverlet on the bed, and a cozy pink armchair with a floor lamp sitting next to it. 

It dawns on me that Haymitch’s mother was probably supposed to occupy this room.

“I wonder if that’s why he doesn’t use the upstairs,” I blurt out.

“What do you mean?” Katniss asks.

“Haymitch’s family, his mother and brother died shortly after he won his Games. I doubt they ever moved in even.”

A strange look comes over Katniss and I realize that she’s comparing herself to Haymitch and thinking about her mother and sister. 

Quickly, I attempt to redirect her thoughts. “Well, at least these rooms will be easier to clean. Just a good dusting, vacuuming, airing out, and washing the linens.”

“I guess.”

“Thanks for showing me around Katniss. I better get started.”

“So you’ll take the job then?” she asks, as if she’s suddenly come back to herself.

“Well I need the work.” 

“Good. But if you need help with anything, Hazelle, come and get me. Peeta can also help if you need to move anything heavy. He’s strong.”

Katniss leaves, and I sit down in the pink chair and wonder what I’ve gotten myself into. Never have I seen such filth.

Oh, there are folks in the Seam who live in squalor, too, but they have far fewer possessions. Even if everything they owned were spread out, it would hardly begin to cover the floor of the smallest room in Haymitch’s house. 

The thing that makes me most angry about the mess is that Haymitch grew up poor, and yet he treats his belongings with such contempt. All these nice things and he’s treated them so shoddily. 

I ponder where to start. What area would make the biggest impact on Haymitch? I have no idea, but I know what would help me most would be if Haymitch would sleep upstairs so I could begin to eradicate the mess downstairs. 

So I begin my work in the big bedroom that has the attached bathroom. Although on the surface it appears to be neat, it takes me two full days to air the rooms out and get rid of all the dust. 

A good portion of my time is spent locating the vacuum cleaner, and figuring out how to operate the washing machine and dryer so I can clean the bedding. Fortunately I find instruction booklets on the laundry room shelf next to the washing powder.

Despite the amount of work involved, the days pass quickly. Haymitch begrudgingly agrees to move into the upstairs bedroom when I am through with it.

The front door to his house is always unlocked. I knock on it in the morning to announce my arrival before opening it and stepping in. Haymitch is usually awake to greet me and answer any questions I may have, but he goes to sleep soon afterwards. 

It may be a tiring, lonely job, but there is a great deal of satisfaction in it as the house slowly becomes organized.

One morning, I run into Lily Everdeen who is leaving Victor’s Village just as I am walking in. 

“Good morning,” she greets me. “I hear you’re helping Haymitch.”

I snort. “It would have been easier for him to move into one of the empty houses and just burn his place down.”

“I doubt President Snow would let him do that.”

We laugh together like life-long friends sharing a joke, but we’ve only gotten close lately. 

There’s something about Lily Everdeen that has always bothered me. Both of our husbands were killed in the same mining accident, and Lily took to her bed, while I took to the streets looking for work.

To me, that example illustrates the fundamental difference between Seam and Town. We who were born and raised in the Seam are far stronger mentally than those in Town because we have been the underdog for so long.

Still, Gale would have died if not for Lily’s help. She took care of my son for days, stitching up his wounds and making sure they didn’t become infected. She never asked me for a cent for his care; I will always be in her debt. 

As I scrub out Haymitch’s empty kitchen cupboards, I ponder his life. Like Lily did when her husband died, Haymitch, too, seems to have fallen into a hole and has given up. 

People say the Games affected him, but I don’t know about that. Living in the Seam is difficult too. Facing constant deprivation can wear a body down.

It takes me until the early afternoon to wash up the mountain of dirty dishes that Haymitch had piled up in the sink, as well as their relatives that had migrated to other rooms in the house. I’ve also tackled the grimy pans, expelling the bug-ridden mess in some bushes behind the house.

The counters are mostly bare and the filthy stovetop is cleared at least, although the grease and grime remain. More remains to be done.

I go to the front door and sit on a chair on Haymitch’s porch to eat a sandwich I’ve brought from home. 

“How’s it going?” Peeta Mellark calls out. He has a large satchel over his shoulder and is walking toward his house.

“Fine,” I call down to him. 

Katniss’ fiancé climbs the stairs to the porch and stands in front of me. I know my son sees Peeta Mellark as a rival for Katniss’ affection, and I’ve told him that he’s wrong.

“The Capitol manufactured that relationship. They forced them to get engaged." 

“Katniss said that too,” Gale admitted. 

“Those fools in the Capitol obviously don’t know that Seam and Town never mix,” I explain.

“But Katniss’ parents did,” Gale pointed out.

That’s true, and as far as I know Glenn and Lily Everdeen were happy together. Still they paid a price for that happiness, being ostracized by their families and by many people in both the Seam and Town. 

However, I’m beginning to think Gale may be right about Katniss having strong feelings for Peeta Mellark. I’ve only seen them together a few times since their engagement, but there is definitely a connection between the pair. 

Katniss may not be physically affectionate with him like I was with Samuel when we were engaged, but she seems relaxed, comfortable even in his presence. And despite Lily’s initial insistence that Katniss was too young for a boyfriend, she, too, has welcomed him into their family.

Still I know Katniss cares greatly for Gale and he for her. He would have been killed at the whipping post if she hadn’t stepped in to stop Thread. I hate the thought that the Capitol will force Katniss to break my son’s heart.

Peeta Mellark reaches into his bag and pulls out a loaf of white bread. It looks and smells far better than the hard, brown tesserae bread that makes up my sandwich. 

“This is for your family.”

“I can’t accept that,” I tell him pointedly.

“Please take it. If you don’t, I’ll just end up breaking it up for the birds.”

People are starving in Twelve and this boy would feed good bread to the birds. Is he stupid?

I sigh. “All right I’ll take it.”

“Thanks.”

Why is he thanking me? I’m the one who should be thanking him for providing our dinner.

I put the loaf into my own bag. “Thank you. But you didn’t need to give this to me. We’re doing fine.”

Well, that’s not really true, otherwise I wouldn’t be spending my days cleaning Haymitch’s house. 

“Oh, I’m sure you are,” he says politely. “But I bake so many loaves every day and the Everdeens and Haymitch can only eat so much. I have to give the rest away.”

“You should be working at your parents’ bakery then.” 

Typical Town logic. He wins the Games and leaves his family short-handed.

A sad expression comes over him. “Victor’s aren’t allowed to hold jobs, or finish school either. We’re supposed to develop our talent.”

Can that be true? We haven’t had a winner in the Games for so long, I have no idea of the rules that bind winners. Does Haymitch have a talent? I can’t imagine drinking counts. 

“Is your talent baking?”

“No, painting.”

“Oh.” That sounds peculiar, but it would be just like the Capitol to encourage the victors to pursue completely useless skills. I make a mental note to ask Katniss what she aspires to, since hunting is illegal.

“I don’t sleep well so I bake in the middle of the night to calm myself.”

It’s a strange thing that a sixteen-year-old boy would be living in a grand mansion alone. Yet without his family around, without school, without a job, he seems to have found a purpose to keep going. 

Perhaps my acceptance of his bread is doing him as much benefit as his giving of it is helping me.

It suddenly dawns on me that Haymitch was exactly the same age as Peeta Mellark when he won his Games. I shudder to think that the boy in front of me could grow up into the drunk whose house I’m cleaning today. 

Suddenly I feel very maternal toward my son’s rival.

“You are keeping your house tidy, I hope?”

He gives me a sheepish grin. “Well, the kitchen is spic and span. I guess that’s habit from the bakery. But my bathroom’s getting kind of gross.”

“Well if you need any pointers, I’d be happy to advise you.”

He averts his eyes, reminding me of my own children when they know they’re at fault. “Oh, I know what to do. I guess I’ve just gotten lazy because no one sees it but me.”

“Well you don’t want to turn into Haymitch.”

A look of horror comes over him. “It’s nowhere near that bad yet.”

He waves good-bye and stomps down the stairs. His footfall is heavy and I remember that he lost part of his leg as a result of the Games, and has a false limb. He seems to be managing all right. 

He certainly is good-natured for all he went through. I don’t know if Gale would have taken such a loss as well. Losing a leg would devastate him. 

I finish my sandwich and get back to work. It takes another day to clean the kitchen. But I stand back in amazement when it is complete. It is a beautiful sight to see a shiny, empty sink, a gleaming stove top and oven, an empty refrigerator. 

Slowly I make my way through the downstairs rooms. The task that seemed overwhelming at first is being accomplished, as I focus on one chunk at a time. The satisfaction of seeing this pigsty turned into a clean home brings me immense pleasure. 

“You’re doing a good job,” Haymitch says gruffly when he greets me one morning.

“Thank you.” 

“But I don’t know if I can keep it up.”

My face grows dark, and I have the urge to slap this inebriate. Even though it’s not my house, I have become quite possessive of it because of all the work I’ve put into it. If Haymitch dares to mess it up again…

“I have a proposition for you. Would you consider staying on as my housekeeper? This is a big place and I’ve got plenty of room upstairs for you and your family.”

My jaw drops. Move into Victor’s Village with Haymitch Abernathy? Is the man insane? 

What would people think if a widow moved in with him? Something tawdry most likely. 

And my children? Haymitch has no idea how loud children can be. The thought of Gale living here, watching Katniss and Peeta Mellark grow closer, get married even…. No, I would never do that to my son.

Besides Haymitch is the district drunk. He may be drinking less these days because Ripper is temporarily out of business, but eventually he will resume his old habits; I’ve no doubt of that. 

Still, maybe we could come up with a compromise because he’s right about the house needing upkeep if he hopes to keep it in its renewed state. 

“I won’t move in. But I could work as your housekeeper while the kids are at school. Keep the place clean, do your laundry, cook some meals for you.”

Be your mother, I think scornfully. Even sixteen-year old Peeta Mellark is capable of taking care of himself. But then he isn’t a drunk. 

He rubs his chin. “You’re right; that’s probably better anyway.”

I nod. 

“Okay then, we have a deal.” He yawns. “Well it’s time for me to turn in.” He leaves abruptly, heading for the stairs.

Relief spreads over me. I won’t have to scramble to find more work after the house is cleaned.

I have one last room to contend with downstairs: the office that Haymitch had been sleeping in. After I’ve vacuumed and dusted, I discover a box, filled with paperwork, sitting on the closet floor. 

Haymitch’s house has been surprisingly free of loose paperwork. I expect that he keeps it in the locked file drawer that is built into the big desk. Thinking this box must contain rubbish, I pick up a few of the papers on top.

A shiver runs down my spine as I realize what I’ve come across – paperwork from the Games detailing the deaths of the 46 children from Twelve that have died ever since Haymitch Abernathy won the Second Quarter Quell and became the mentor for the District Twelve tributes. 

Photographs of the smiling children whose lives have been cut short cause my throat to tighten. There are stories behind each face because each death had a ripple effect that impacted the lives of their family and friends.

I’m astonished that Haymitch has kept all these papers in the same room in which he slept. If I, a mere television viewer of this loss, am so upset, how does Haymitch even begin to cope? And before he became mentor, he was a tribute, just like Katniss and Peeta Mellark.

How in the hell do those two cope? Peeta Mellark mentioned that he had trouble sleeping. Lily once told me that Katniss hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since she returned from the Games. She suffers from terrific nightmares.

And Haymitch? He has turned his night into day and his day into night. Is he trying to avoid seeing ghosts?

Silent tears fall down my cheeks as I sit on the floor in Haymitch’s study, crying for tributes long dead. 

Damn Snow. Damn the Capitol. They have turned us against each other, district against district, even Seam against Town. Forcing us to be adversaries in an evil Game, ever focusing on our differences, encouraging us in our anger towards each other – all to ensure that we will not join together to rise against them.

By keeping us divided, the Capitol has effectively held us captive.

I wipe the tears from my face, embarrassed at getting so worked up. But it’s been a rough couple of months for me, with Gale’s whipping, Posy getting the measles, Rory signing up for tesserae, and the collapse of my laundry business. 

I look around the room and my eyes catch sight of the spider’s web. How did I miss it while I was dusting?

I drag a chair over to the corner of the room, to get up to it. Normally I would kill the plump spider that eyes me lazily from the center of the web outright, but overwrought with emotion, I find myself speaking aloud to it.

“Only a monster would destroy you and your home. I’ll put you outside.”

Covering my hand with a rag, I reach for the spider and pull it from the web. I expect that it would try to move from my fingers but it doesn’t.

I carry it outside and down the stairs, and set it on the ground to free it. But it doesn’t move. I pick it up again and study it. Roll it between my fingers. It’s not a spider, although it looks like one. It’s made of a lightweight metal.

Realizing what I’ve found, I gasp, drop it onto the ground, and stomp it under my foot until the bug is destroyed.

The Capitol is plain evil.

It takes me another week to finish, as I still have to rid the remainder of the upstairs of its dust. But three weeks to the very day I began, Haymitch’s house is presentable. 

I marvel at what I’ve accomplished, pleased that I was able to restore the house to most of it’s former glory. 

Unfortunately Haymitch hardly notices as his stash of liquor has almost completely run out. He is down to a single glass a day, which leaves him moody. Katniss tells me he likes roasted chicken and I try a new recipe to encourage him to eat.

But Katniss and Peeta Mellark are astounded. 

“Oh Hazelle,” Katniss whispers as she looks around the living room with wide eyes. “Is there more?”

“Look around,” I tell her. 

“You’re a miracle worker,” Peeta Mellark says, as the pair leaves the kitchen. 

His words unexpectedly please me. He is more respectful of my work than my own children. 

“I hope you’re keeping your house as nice, I don’t want to have to come over and clean it too,” I tease.

He grins. “I’ve scrubbed my bathroom.”

He may come from Town, but Peeta has a good heart. I hope he and Katniss will be happy together.

 

THE END


End file.
